


Fumble

by MiaGhost



Series: Falter, Fumble, Fracture, Fall. [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Daily dose of pain, Don't really know what this is either, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt, Little bit of heartbreak, M/M, Part two of Falter, Tears, Technically a death scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:50:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11002512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaGhost/pseuds/MiaGhost
Summary: The second time disaster struck.





	Fumble

~.~

"Nothing is infallible. Angels make mistakes."

"Shut your cake hole, Castiel."

"No-one blames-"

"I said _fuck off_ , Casti _el_."

Gabriel reined in the temper that had leaked out in the fierce snarl, folding it up in his Grace and trying to push it further inside of himself.

 _You_.

No-one blames _You_.

Gabriel swallowed the unnecessary barb that was volleyed to his tongue by the younger angel's displeased breath.

No-one.

No-one blames you. Dean doesn't blame you.

 _Well I blame me. And Sam would too. Even if he'd never say it_.

"Just go."

He didn't turn around, refusing to look to see whatever expression was on the wayward angel's face. That stoic, even expression drove him to despair. The depth of caring he'd developed over his years with the bloody Winchesters was sickening. The expression with those wide, trusting eyes. The one of _mindless_ belief that God's Plan was _Good and Just_. Or worse; sympathy, pity. No. He didn't turn to see it, whatever it was.

After a moment the door squeaked, and then it closed. Gabriel swallowed down the inordinate fury rising in his very being. Anger would do him no good now if he let it loose. The strength it lent him was useful, the energy less so. It was with a steel will that he continued to sit, still as a sculpture perched atop the table, across the room from the bedside. Castiel would be better served wherever Dean was. The older Winchester would get here soon enough, and when he did Gabriel would leave.

He had no intention of picking up the pieces of Dean that shattered upon seeing the brother he'd raised lying pale upon the stained shack mattress. That would be Castiel's job, Castiel's right as their third-wheel.

It wasn't for Gabriel. He'd never belonged with them and today he'd proved it.

A heartbeat of a slip, a fumble.

It was all it took.

 _And_ _what it took_.

It didn't matter if the others didn't blame him. But they would. Dean would. This was Gabriel's doing. He was the powerful Archangel who'd dropped the ball for less than the blink of Sam's eye.

And now those eyes were closed and Gabriel was angry and Dean would be… Dean would be less volatile if Gabriel wasn't there.

He'd never belonged. And whether today had happened or not, he still wouldn't. Sam would never say so, even if Dean might. They obviously had an unspoken deal, assigning themselves an ex-member of the God Squad each to try and guide along the lawless path. Dean had dibs on Castiel years ago. Sam was stuck with him. He'd placed a trust in Gabriel that was both surprising and yet not, if you really knew Sam Winchester at all. Sam had always been the brother Gabriel favoured.

And he'd failed him.

The worst part was knowing that if Sam were sitting with him looking over the ruins of their foiled hunt, he'd tell Gabriel it wasn't his fault. He'd tell him these things happened. He'd tell him it was the risk of a Hunter, the sacrifice they all signed up for. He'd say so even if part of him believed it was all bullshit.

But the fact of the matter was that he _wasn't_ sitting next to Gabriel. He was lying in that bed, everything that made him _him_ missing. Pale, still as the grave. Gabriel hated to feel the cracking in his ribcage at the sight.

That was why Gabriel wouldn't turn to watch his younger brother leave the room, and it was why he wouldn't stay when Dean arrived. It was why he sat atop the table instead of in the empty chair between the two rusted bed frames.

Because they'd see what Gabriel could feel on his own skin; the yearning for Sam to be sitting beside him and saying all of those things, true or not, and the splintered way Gabriel felt because he couldn't.

"Really fucked up this time, Samshine." he told the silence in the room, "You were right. I should have listened. I should have- should have _waited_."

He pulled his knees up under his chin, feeling for the first time the true fear of humanity, the open-water emptiness of being completely alone. His eyes were hot and wet and his chest was tight. His voice was faded, washed out, worn.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. Please come back."

~.~


End file.
